novelGlobal Book 8: Chapter 31: Friends or Foes
Book 8: Chapter 31: Friends or Foes
Book 8: Chapter 31: Friends or Foes
Arcus locked eyes with Victor and nodded. “Agreed. Let us evaluate the rest of this treasure before settling the matter of the orb.”
“Of course.” Arona took a step back and gestured at the big, iron-bound chest. “This orb is part of a treasure, likely generated by the System. If touched, it may be absorbed, so let’s use caution.”
Victor nodded, but part of him was thinking he should just grab the orb. If Arcus wanted to fight about it, maybe it was better to get it over with. It would be an easy way to push things to a head. Of course, it would make him the aggressor, and he’d lose any moral high ground he might currently enjoy. As it was, all he had were rumors of Arcus’s impending betrayal. So far, the man had been occasionally acerbic, and his personality wasn’t exactly Victor’s cup of tea, but he hadn’t done anything to warrant outright hostility.
“Victor,” Arcus said, startling him out of his musings of betrayal. “Do you object to me taking out the other items in the chest? I won’t touch the orb.”
Victor shrugged and glanced at Arona. Her dark eyes were focused on the chest, and her face was impassive. “Why are you asking me?”
Arcus smiled and tapped the heavy wood of the chest with his dark metal rod. “I’ve adventured with Arona. She knows I won’t attempt any subterfuge.”
“It’s true,” Arona rasped. “Arcus may have character flaws, but he’s no thief.”
Victor grunted in assent; he figured it was easy for a guy whose family was considered wealthy in a city full of rich demigods to resist the temptation of thievery. The Pyromancer leaned over the chest and lifted out a glittering, jewel-studded golden crown. It was a massive, gaudy thing, and Victor found himself hoping it wasn’t anything great because he couldn’t see himself wearing it. “Mundane treasure,” Arcus announced. “I’d estimate its value at two hundred thousand standard beads.” He set it on the ground before the chest.
Arcus reached back into the chest and took out a broadsword. It was about a yard long with a wide, double-edged blade of shimmering, opalescent gray-black metal. It would be a short sword to Victor, and he doubted his hand would be comfortable on the human-sized, narrow hilt. Still, the metal looked amazing, and he could sense the quality of the weapon without even touching it. Arcus cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes. “A Rhovarian broadsword crafted from sableglow steel.”
“Does it live?” Arona asked, leaning close.
“There is no conscious spirit within this blade.” Arcus hefted it, a thoughtful expression behind his eyes, then added, “It’s well made, but I’d say the materials are worth more than the sword itself. I’d wager it would garner more than a million standard beads at auction.” He set the sword down beside the crown.
Victor heard a grunt of consternation and turned to see Tyn leaning forward, hesitantly lifting a hand. “What is it, Tyn?”
“What’s an auction?”
Arona answered before Victor could think of an easy explanation, “A way for large numbers of people to express interest in an item. They make offers, and the one who ‘bids’ the most wins the item.”
“Ah!” Tyn nodded eagerly.
Arcus chuckled, then took another item from the chest. It was a dark blue crystal ring. “A ring of Crystal Protection—two charges.” He set the ring beside the crown, and when he looked up, he must have seen Victor’s expression because he added, “It will create a shell around the wearer made of dense crystal. The shell lasts a few seconds and absorbs significant damage.”
Victor nodded. “Thanks.”Findd new stories at novelhall.com
Arcus reached back into the chest and withdrew a black, leather-bound tome. It wasn’t very large—about five by seven inches and, Victor figured, probably contained around fifty pages. Arcus frowned, opening the top cover and peering at the first page. He leafed through the following few pages and then shrugged. “It doesn’t offer any information when I attempt a bond, and I don’t recognize these runes.” To Victor’s slight vexation, he passed it to Arona. “Any idea?”
She, too, flipped through the pages and shrugged. “My master has some tomes and scrolls with runes of this style on the binding. He’s never taught me from any of them, and I certainly don’t know what they mean. It may be precious, or it may be junk.”
“Can I see it?” Victor held out his hand, and Arona passed the book to him with a raised eyebrow. Victor knew what they were thinking; it wasn’t a secret that he was a berserking brute in combat. He didn’t often do things that exhibited much finesse, and it was probably becoming common knowledge that he was relatively uneducated compared to the other “prodigies” around Sojourn. With that in mind, he fought to keep a straight face when he thumbed through the pages and immediately recognized the runes and patterns as elder magic.
The book contained a spell or, at least, some of the building blocks of a spell written in elder magic. Why would the System award it? Was it because the dungeon was tier-nine? Was it meant to help people prepare for their test of steel? It wasn’t the first time Victor had postulated that the “test of steel” and “lustrous veil” had something to do with learning to use Energy without the System’s training wheels. He shrugged and set the book down next to the crown. “Anything else?”
Arcus reached into the chest, and Victor could hear the clink of metals rubbing against each other as he ran his hand around the bottom. “Nothing but gems, precious metal coins, and some attuned Energy beads. I’d estimate another million in total value.”
Victor sighed and stretched his neck, wringing forth some pops, trying to look impatient as he said, “Well, listen, nothing here looks all that great, and, as you said, a full level from an Energy orb is worth an awful lot for people at our level.” Inwardly, he laughed as he said, “our level.” If Arona and Arcus knew he was twenty or thirty levels beneath them, he could only imagine the apoplectic reaction his performance in the challenge dungeon would have elicited.
“I . . .” Arona paused and looked at Victor, then shrugged. “I think it’s more valuable to Arcus and me. I don’t know your level, Victor, but my master indicated that you had a ways to go to reach tier nine.”
“Yes, I must concur with Arona, Victor. You’re aware of the exponential increase in the Energy requirement for levels, yes? As I'm sure you know, the curve becomes very steep around tier seven. Do you know, though, that going from level ninety to ninety-one is nearly thirty times that of seventy to seventy-one?”
Victor, in fact, did not know that, but it made a lot of sense; he’d gained his first few levels almost effortlessly and had gone through entire tiers in a matter of weeks. Things were definitely slower in the sixties, and hearing Arcus, it sounded like it would only get a lot worse. It also explained why Arona and Arcus had been so excited about an Energy orb they didn’t have to use immediately. What if she could save that orb until she hit level ninety-nine? It might save her years of work. Still, he didn’t want them to know how little he knew. He nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s still worth a lot to me.”
Arcus’s mouth fell open, and he looked a little flustered, like he was trying to explain to a child why he didn’t need a grownup’s dress shoes. Arona stepped in with, “What if we give you your pick of two of the other items?”
“And the loose coins and treasure,” Arcus added.
Victor rubbed his chin, trying to make it look like a hard sell. In truth, he wanted that book. “If I take all that, it doesn’t leave much for you or Arona if you don’t get that Energy orb.”
“It’s fine.” Arcus shrugged. “We’ll settle the matter by chance, and the loser will have to accept the smaller award. If you recuse yourself from the claim on the orb, it increases our chances significantly.”
“She won’t abide this situation.”
Victor turned and started hiking again. “She can influence the others?”
Arcus nodded. “Oh yes. Especially considering many others are always on her side of things—Your master, Lord Yon, Kreshta Griss, and Lord Venryn. Never mind the hundreds of veil walkers not currently serving as consuls who consider her a friend.”
“But not my master or the other undead.” Arona practically sighed as she spoke, and Victor could hear the disappointed longing in her words.
“Why?”
“She’s a Summer Fae. Well, not full-blooded, but very close. She’s been to the Faewild and served on the Summer Court.” Arona shrugged. “The Summer Fae see undead and Death Casters in general as antithetical to all they hold dear.”
Victor looked at Arona as she spoke; the sadness in her voice was impossible to miss, but it was hard to see any emotion in her dark eyes. He didn’t want to get personal with her, not really, especially with Arcus part of the conversation, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Are you? Undead, I mean? I knew you were a Death Caster, but . . .” He trailed off, allowing her to assume his intention.
“I’m . . . in between. It’s hard to explain, Victor. Suffice it to say that in her eyes, I am. Given time, I will be, so why argue the fine point?”
“Oh, poor Arona,” Arcus scoffed. “Here we go again. Victor, you’ve no idea how many times I’ve listened to her get drunk around a campfire and lament her fate.” He shoved Arona’s shoulder and continued, “Weren’t you and Valeska scheming to escape Sojourn and your masters last Frost’s Day? Didn’t you betray her in the Vault of Valor?”
“Valeska—” Victor started, about to say he remembered that name, but Arona cut him off.
“Eat corpse bowels, Arcus!” She quickened her pace, and Victor sighed, looking down at the Elementalist.
“That wasn’t too cool, dude.”
“What? To speak the truth? She’s fickle, that one. She makes promises to that boy, but if killing the children in this place would somehow advance her or her master’s power, she’d do it.” Arcus shook his head, gathered some phlegm, and spat. “I’ll take the lead. We should avoid more monster spawns so we can be done with this damned place. Follow me or my bird if you can’t see me.” He gestured to the fiery, circling bird of prey high in the sky. Before Victor could agree, Arcus burst into flames and began to jog, quickly outpacing Arona. When he reached a steep grade in the hill, he leaped off and glided to the next slope.
When Victor caught up to Arona, she pointed to Arcus’s fiery form, already climbing the next hill. “He often does that in a dungeon, especially wide-open ones like this.”
“It must be hard growing up in a clique like that. I was going to say I remember Valeska; she was that tall, strong woman with the two hatchets, right?”
“Yes. Thorn and Bloom are her axes. She hasn’t spoken to me since the contest, but I heard from a mutual friend that she nearly went wild with despair when she thought she’d lost Thorn; the axe was stuck in your back when the System rescued her. Then you stabbed it into Brontes, and when the System rescued him, the axe came along. She was overjoyed. I’m surprised she wasn’t at your party.”
“Well . . .” Victor trailed off. He could think of a few reasons the woman might not want to come, starting with the fact that she’d broken dozens of bones during their fight. He shrugged, though, and tried to keep things positive. “Maybe we’ll be able to spar or something. I’m glad she got her axe back, too. I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly during that fight.”
“No,” Arona chuckled. “My master made me watch the battle, much as Arcus’s did. I’d say you were anything but analytical during that fight, though your battle instincts are incredible.”
Victor ignored the veiled compliment. “So, you don’t like your master much, huh?”
“Well, I told you not to trust him for a reason.”
Victor frowned, thinking, and then remembered what Dar’s friend, Lo’ro, had told him—how he meant to steal Arona away from Vesavo Bonewhisper. “How do you feel about Lo’ro?”
“Lo’ro the Grim?” Arona shuddered. “He’s a different sort of horrible.”
“Damn.”
“Why do you ask?”
Victor didn’t want to make enemies by running his mouth about things that might have been said in confidence, so he tried to skirt around the subject. “He’s a friend of Ranish Dar’s, I guess.” Before she could follow up for more detail, he changed the subject: “You think your friends are really pissed? Don’t you think they understand what you were trying to do?”
“Brontes doesn’t hold a grudge, but Valeska and Elandor refuse to speak to me. It’s of little importance. My loyalty is to my master, and I did what he expected me to do.” She didn’t say more, and Victor didn’t want to press. She sounded depressed, and he knew it was a lot deeper than her recent betrayal in the challenge dungeon. She spoke scornfully of Death Casters and the undead. She spoke longingly of people like Rexa, the Summer Fae. She was trapped by the Energy in her Core, and Victor wished he could help her.
Of course, he had some ideas. Thayla had gained a death-attuned Core in the dungeon attached to Greatbone Mine, and he’d helped her to alter it, giving her a courage affinity. Hadn’t he done something similar for Lam? Could he help Arona escape the influence of her Core’s attunement? Could he do something like that without becoming public enemy number one to all the Death Casters in Sojourn? Should he? For all he knew, she was just manipulating him. Victor was aware of his blind spot when it came to pretty women in need.
He snorted, drawing a glance from her, but shook his head and looked away. The truth was that it wasn’t just women. Didn’t he want to help Tyn, too? He liked to think he enjoyed helping people in need—underdogs, for lack of a better term. He nodded, liking the sound of that. It fit; wasn’t he planning to return to Zaafor to help the Degh? Talk about underdogs! He just had to decide: was Arona an underdog in need of help, trapped by her affinity and master, or was she just manipulating him? If so, why?
He glanced from Arona’s dark-shrouded form to Arcus’s distant, fiery one on the next hilltop. They were both dangerous. They both wanted something, but Victor wasn’t sure what or how far they’d each go to attain it. He knew he could take Arcus in a fight, but what about Arona? What if she was just trying to lull him into complacency? What if she and Arcus were aligned against him? He hated the paranoia twisting his thoughts but couldn’t help it. There were too many factions and too many different motivations to consider. He wished he had an ally he could trust in that place, but without one, he simply determined to do what Arcus suggested: finish and get the hell out.